Hearts Eclipsed
by Elin1
Summary: A berserk blanketfic? Can it be done? I hope so, 'cause I've tried. In this canon bending AU, the main pairing is JudeauCaska. Let's see if I can make it work, ne?
1. Chapter 1

Yes, yes, I know. I shouldn't be starting a new project when I'm so behind on 'Hawk and Phoenix', but to be fair: this is something I begun a long time ago with the intention of posting. I've been writing it alongside HaP for a good while, and only recently realised that it actually divided quite neatly into chapters... I'm posting it in the hopes that it will work as a kick in the pants for me to get on with HaP. That's why I won't post all chapters at once, either. Now, on to your regularly scheduled introduction:

Welcome to my blanketfic. If you've hung around the fanfiction scene long enough, you know what that means - cheap plot device to get two characters together.

One snow storm, two people, one shelter (usually an abandoned cabin in the woods) and only one blanket. Share or die. At least, that's how they _start out_...

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of any characters nor the world of Kentaro Miura's 'Berserk', I am using them here for the purpose of a fanfic without expressed consent from the owner. No harm is intended and no profit is made from this.

For Judeau and Caska and all those who think, like me, that they would be happy together.

* * *

Part one.

The rickety old barn door wouldn't close properly. Not until he put his entire weight against it and pressed, and not even then did it manage to keep the snow and the howling wind out properly. Well, no matter; at least they had _some_ shelter in here.

After Judeau had barred the door, enough to make sure that it wouldn't suddenly fly open again, he hurried over to the other end of the barn where his horse had walked off to with its precious burden.

There was still some straw left in here - quite a big pile of it, actually - all heaped together in a seemingly dry corner. Again, Judeau sent a prayer of gratitude up to his lucky star as he carefully eased Caska's limp body down from the horse's back and onto the softly rustling straw.

"Come on, Caska, come on," he mumbled frantically as he removed her thick scarf and begun searching for a pulse. "Don't die, please don't die on me, not now, not when I've finally found you, come on, don't die..."

Her skin was frightfully cold and so pale that its dark colour seemed more grey than brown. Her lips were much too blue. Judeau tore his fingerless under-glove off and pressed his whole hand against the side of her neck. "Come onnn..."

There. A weak, slow rhythm, barely noticeable. Oh thank God. He pulled his cap off and leaned down until his ear almost brushed her lips, and felt her faint, irregular breaths whisper against it. Still alive - so far, so good. Judeau let out a deep breath that he didn't even know he had been holding, and allowed himself a brief moment to look around.

The barn was very, very bare and very simple. Except for the pile of straw in the corner, the horse and the two people, there was absolutely nothing in it. On the walls nearer to the door, there were a few hooks and nails that might once have held farming tools like pitchforks and shovels, but the family that had lived here had probably taken all such equipment along with them when they'd moved away from the approaching war. Or maybe not - some thoughtful soul must have left this hay here for wayward wanderers - but if they'd left anything else it had probably been plundered by now. But that didn't matter. All Judeau needed right now was shelter from the worst of the wind and a reasonably warm and dry place, and both of these had been provided.

If there really was a god, Judeau would definitely have to shake his hand someday.

"Wake up, Caska," Judeau mumbled, trying to rub some warmth back into her arms through the heavy cloth of her coat. "Come on, wake up. Please wake up."

There was something wrong about Caska's coat. Judeau paused, carefully feeling the cloth under his fingers, and then reached for her discarded scarf.

With a curse, Judeau dropped the scarf and hurriedly unbuttoned Caska's coat. Just as he had suspected, all of her clothes underneath the coat had somehow gotten wet, and then frozen after she'd collapsed in the snow. Now, _this_ was seriously bad. The only way to save her from freezing to death now would be to...

...Oh, damn...

He hesitated, his eyes involuntarily travelling down her prone form.

...He'd have to...

He covered his mouth in bewilderment and let out a long, strained breath.

...take off... and...

Shaking his head roughly, he pushed the hesitation away and returned to the task at hand - the most important job he had ever been assigned: Saving Caska's life. There was no other way, and that was the simple truth. He'd just have to try to be a gentleman about it.

As if that was really going to help, in the end.

"She's going to _kill_ me in the morning," he groaned quietly to himself, but began unbuttoning her thick blouse nonetheless.

As he got further down through the different layers of clothing, he got more and more uncomfortable about it. On one hand, for every garment removed, he was getting one step closer to a really painful payback if... no, _when_ she woke up, and on the other, he was starting to feel very guilty about that small part, in the furthest, most inconsequential recesses of his mind, which was really, really enjoying doing this.

Try not to think about it as 'undressing Caska', he told himself. Think of something else. Just think of something else.

How could this have happened in the first place? Her outer coat was covered in snow, but none of it had melted - and even so, it would have taken a good, long time for any water to seep down through all the layers like this.

The answer came to him as he felt a chilly wetness around his own ankles. Of course - Just as he had gotten snow into his boots while trudging through it, she must have gotten it under her coat when she was thrown off her horse. Then the warmth of her body had melted the snow, and the wetness had chilled her that much faster. What incredible luck that he had found her when he had.

And, for that matter, what luck that he'd remembered seeing an old barn in this area when the Hawks had passed it, a few days ago. He remembered thinking that it was odd that the adjoining houses had been burnt down by enemy raiders, but not this one, rickety old building. What luck.

Now, there was only her sleeveless undershirt left, and it covered precious little of her cold, cold body.

It was also completely drenched.

Oh yes, he was a dead man.

Trying not to touch any sensitive areas, Judeau averted his eyes and quickly removed this last piece of clothing. At least now, he could honestly say that he hadn't taken advantage of the situation.

"I just hope she'll believe me, too," he muttered as he hurriedly pulled out the thick, dry blanket from his saddlebag and swept it around Caska. "Then maybe she'll just pound me to a pulp."

Luck again, he thought as he stripped off his own clothes, or maybe just good common sense that I thought of bringing that blanket along.

She's going to kill me.

Why, oh why did she have to try to take a short cut? Why did she have to place herself in this danger? _I_ should be angry at _her,_ really! Recklessly endangering herself... for Him, of course. Always for Him.

He hesitated, hands on the strap of his hosen. They clung to his ankles, wet and numbingly cold.

He really should take them off, too - for his own sake.

His breath was forming misty clouds in the darkness, and every little hair on his body was trying to stand on edge.

"S-so cohh-cold..."

No. Hosen stay on. Otherwise, come payback time... Judeau shivered, and only partially because of the cold.

As an afterthought, Judeau made his horse lay down on the hay before he crept in under the blanket, so he could press his back against the beast and take advantage of its body heat as well. Then, in one swift but careful movement, he wrapped his arms around Caska and pulled her tightly against himself.

Her back was so shockingly, painfully cold against his chest that all he could do was gasp and hold on to her body for dear life, until the desperate impulse to push her away again finally begun to fade. Shivering and trembling, Judeau carefully curled up around her, taking her hands in both of his and holding them close. He then draped one leg over hers, trying for a while to curl his toes around her freezing ones. Anything to drive that awful coldness away.

"C-come on, C-Caska," he whispered through chattering teeth, "Come on. D-don't die on me. Don't... give up now." He pressed his forehead against the back of her neck, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to make himself stop trembling so. "D-don't give up, okay? You c-can't give up. Just... d-don't die. Please don't die."

He kept whispering pleas and encouragements for a while, mostly to distract and encourage himself. He knew full well that Caska wasn't going to come to anytime soon, but he really didn't want to think about how serious the facts of her condition could be - Or the more acute problem of whether or not either of them were going to make it through the night; the storm showed no sign of calming and sometimes the icy winds rattled the barn so forcefully that Judeau thought the whole construction was going to come crashing down on them.

But so far, the thick blanket and the warm horse - who casually nibbled at the hay and seemed to have no greater desire at this time than to remain right where he was - managed to keep the numbing cold at bay. After a while, Judeau found himself drifting off into a restless half-slumber, as jumbled, dreamlike images and impressions of the earlier day rose unbidden into his consciousness.

This whole ordeal must have taken a worse toll on me than I first suspected, Judeau thought. I feel almost feverish. And so tired...

...But then, it _has_ been quite a stressful day...

...Indeed...

* * *

That's all for now. Please feed the plotbunnies and review, so I know if anyone's reading this. There's more and there _will_ be more, regardless... but please review anyway. 


	2. Chapter 2

As promised, here's the continuation! I've been creative, so I'm "rewarding" myself by posting this. Disclaimers and such still applies. Entering flashback mode in three… two… one…

* * *

Part two

Griffith glanced up from the book he was currently studying at Judeau's furtive knock on the half-open door.

"Yes?"

The scout commander stepped into the room, pulling his hat off of his blond head and fiddling somewhat restlessly with its hem.

"Sorry to bother you, Griffith, it's just that... Caska should have been back about two hours ago, and the storm is getting worse..."

Griffith's smooth brow furrowed for an instant and he threw a quick glance out the window, at the whirling snow and darkened sky.

"That's right," he muttered with slight surprise in his voice, "I would have expected her back by now. I wonder what's keeping her, she's usually not one to dawdle... Are you sure she's not back yet?"

Judeau nodded, a tad impatiently.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I'm damn sure, his internal voice added acidly. Don't you think she would have come straight to you, if she'd come back? It was _your_ message she was taking to Windham!

It was a bit of an internal struggle not to let his irritation bleed through in his voice or demeanour, but Judeau bit down hard and managed it. He was just so terribly worried right now, but snapping at his commander was not going to make things any better.

Griffith still gave him a quick, unreadable frown before tucking a bookmark between the pages he had been reading and closing the book with a soft thud. Resting his fingertips against each other before his face, Griffith thoughtfully gazed up at Judeau.

"I'm sure she's alright," he mused quietly. "She's a very capable woman."

Judeau shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, sure, but..."

"...But nonetheless," Griffith calmly interrupted, "it's better to be on the safe side, isn't it?"

The scout commander shifted again, carefully shutting up while the white-haired man rose from the desk and walked over to the window.

"I'm afraid, what with the storm and the very real risk of Tudor troops in the area, that I can hardly spare any men for a search party." He paused briefly, then half-turned back towards the blond scout. "Do you think you could handle this by yourself, Judeau?"

Judeau hesitated for only an instant before nodding decisively.

"Yes, Sir. I'll leave right away."

Griffith smiled in the most peculiar way. It was that sort of smile that, like sunlight sparkling on the surface of a pond, somehow both distracted from and emphasised the dark, unknown depths beneath it.

Once again, Judeau got the distinct feeling that his Commander knew a hell of a lot more than he reasonably should, and he fought off the insane impulse to blush.

Griffith walked up to him and confidently placed a pale hand on his shoulder.

"_If_ something would have happened to her, Judeau, there is no one I trust more to bring her back to me in one piece, than you."

Judeau didn't really know how to respond to that, so he just smiled and resisted an urge to clear his throat. Griffith's smile suddenly lit up, losing all traces of subtly hidden knowledge, and he patted Judeau's shoulder encouragingly.

"I expect you both to be back before midnight. Report to me the moment you return, okay?"

Judeau happily saluted, relieved and anxious to be on his way.

"Yes, Sir!"

o

That neither of them would be back at the small castle that served as winter camp for the Hawks before midnight, had become increasingly clearer to Judeau from the moment he'd found Caska's horse, lying dead in the snow.

Whether she had been detained at Windham or decided to try to beat the snowstorm, or something else entirely, she had apparently tried to cut across the open fields instead of sticking to the road, and she had been riding hard. In the whirling snow neither rider nor horse had had a chance to notice the trench, and the poor beast had broken both front legs in what must have been a ghastly headlong tumble.

At that point, Judeau had almost panicked - but a quick inspection of the carcass made it clear that Caska had not been too damaged in the accident: Someone had ended the horse's misery with a swift and effective stab. After this, she must have decided to continue on foot and Judeau had done his best to create a reasonable search pattern, hoping fervently that he would find her safe and warm in some kind of shelter.

But when he did find her she was lying face down in a snow drift, almost entirely covered in that cold, deadly blanket. _Then_ he had panicked, but in a strangely controlled manner: Though his heart had been racing so fast and so hard that it physically shook him, he'd still known precisely what to do. There was just no way that Caska would survive the at least hour-long ride back to the castle (provided she was, indeed, still alive at all - but he really couldn't afford such thoughts right then), so Griffith would have to wait. Caska needed to be brought to shelter, and fast - but where?

Lifting Caska's limp body and holding her closely pressed against himself, as if he could share his warmth with her that way, Judeau desperately looked around for some kind of landmark, anything that would help him decide which way to go. And through the whirling snow, he glimpsed a shape that struck a chord of reminiscence. The dead tree, gnarled and twisted in an almost unnatural way... his mind's eye travelled ahead, beyond the grey old tree, across a long-neglected field to an abandoned, burnt down homestead - and then, veering a bit to the northwest of there...

The old barn!

* * *

Aaand the rest you know. What happens after THAT, though, will have to wait until the next issue. Don't forget to feed the plotbunnies!

RR:

Bengali: Thank you, that's what I was aiming for. I hope it fulfils your expectations… and don't worry, the next HaP chapter is on the way. I been creative, lately!

Lizalou: As always, I am grateful for your comments! I love knowing people's reactions as they read… Hey, it's HARD to build a plausible Jud/Cas without _somehow_ acknowledging the Him-issue. It's too obvious to just ignore. (…coughcough)

Pissy Abyssinian: I've been wanting to thank you for your lovely comments on my other stories! Always nice to meet a fellow Judeau-fan. :)I _am_ writing HaP, right alongside this one! Don't worry, I won't give up on it.

Warlord Harrsk: Hmm… (sniffs around the new person) You sound dwarfish. I like. But if you're gonna be reading my stuff, I'm afraid you're gonna have to be patient. Here's to hoping you don't have to snap! And thank you:)

Arashi: As always, lovely. :)I'm doing pretty fine, thank you… I'm still jealous of you, mostly for all the reasons mentioned in your profile, but I really appreciate your patience with me. I'm such a scatterbrain… but now I finally have my own computer, and that helps in every way. Oh, and thank you for commenting! I hope this chapter helped straighten out some question marks, and I hope you liked it.


	3. Chapter 3

A bit longer this time. I still don't own any of this.

* * *

Part three.

Caska heaved a deep sigh of utter contentment and smiled. Finally the sweet warmth had seeped all the way into the very core of her being, and she felt wonderfully melted and mellow. The cold had been so deep, so painfully oppressive, that she had almost thought she had turned into an ice statue and would shatter completely at just the slightest touch. She had been so sure that she would never be completely warm again - and yet, here she was. Safe and snug, surrounded by friendly, familiar faces in a friendly, familiar place.

Indeed, the large campfire in front of her appeared to have drawn all the Hawks together, and if the noise was any indication they seemed to be having a festive celebration of some sort. She was placed right in the middle of it, but it was not until Rickert turned to her with smiling eyes and excitement-reddened cheeks that she realised that all the fuss was actually for _her_:

"I'm so glad to have you back, Caska!" He beamed at her. "We were all so worried!"

She felt herself blush in surprise and couldn't keep an annoyingly girlish giggle from escaping her.

"Oh… I'm so sorry about that," she said, "but you guys… you really didn't have to go through all this trouble..."

"No trouble," said Pippin in his deep bass rumble and bestowed her with one of his rare smiles.

"Certainly not!" Paolo, one of the team leaders directly under her, animatedly protested. "Not for you, big sister! When that happened, we all thought you were going to die!"

Caska's happiness and contentment wavered for an instant in confusion. What _had_ happened, again?

She couldn't remember – and wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to: The only thing that would come to her as she hesitantly searched her mind was the intense impression of having been cold - cold beyond any human limits - tightly coupled with a deadening feeling of complete and utter loneliness. That was such a very uncomfortable contrast to the cheerful camaraderie that now surrounded her, that she firmly decided that she didn't need to know any more. She closed her eyes with a frown and tried to push the unclear and unsettling flickers of memory from her mind.

They were instantly dispelled, however, as two arms gently tightened around her in an embrace from behind. Surprised that she wasn't surprised, she found herself leaning back against the warm chest with a genuine smile, actually savouring the pleasant sensation.

Right... That was right: The wonderful warmth that had been melting her ever since she got away from that terrible cold had not been that of the large campfire, it had been this. This gentle, comforting embrace. Someone had been holding her this whole time.

Normally, she distantly recognised, it would be highly improbable if not impossible to find her sitting in any man's lap, being cuddled like this - She would never have allowed it. But this... it was different. Not only did she not mind, but the truth was that she couldn't remember ever feeling so safe and cared for. For once, she felt that she could drop her guard and leave all her responsibilities to someone else without worries or qualms, and it was really a wonderfully relaxing experience.

None of the others seemed to think that there was anything strange about her unusual position, either. They were all just smiling and toasting and kept telling her how happy they were to have her back, and when even Griffith, sitting across the fire from her position, raised his cup at her and smiled warmly, Caska couldn't keep her emotions at bay anymore and a small sob escaped her.

Immediately the arms around her tightened in an unspoken, concerned question, and Caska shook her head, wiping some of the gathering tears away from her eyes.

"No," she whispered, knowing instinctively that he would hear her and understand, despite the noise all around. "I'm just... I'm just a bit touched, that's all."

He gave her a small, affirmative squeeze and she gladly relaxed against him, letting a few more tears of happiness spill from her eyes.

"Thank you, everyone." Some of the emotion bled through in her voice, but she didn't care. "Thank you so much."

"Aw, don't cry, Caska!" Rickert exclaimed. Caska wiped her eyes again and another little sob escaped her.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so happy... I was so... I…"

"Well, don't thank _us,_" Guts snorted - but he was smiling too. "If _he_ hadn't come for you, we sure wouldn't be partying right now."

Caska heaved another happy sigh and relaxed, leaning her head against the man behind her. She could feel his comfortingly warm breath against her temple.

He came for me...

"Thank you," she whispered, so that only he would hear.

Somehow, that was when the mood changed. Instead of hugging her again, as she had half expected him to, he gave a small sigh and shifted as if uncomfortable, and suddenly, a wave of inexplicable worry surged through her – something had changed, and it was not good. "What?" she whispered. "Did I say something wrong?"

At that, the festive din around her faded into an uncertain hum and she felt, rather than saw, how all present turned away from their conversations, their food and half-drunk wine, to focus all attention on the two of them. A completely irrational feeling of having done something terribly wrong threatened to bring a blush to her face, but she fought it off. She needed his affirmation, but just couldn't bring herself to turn around and look at his face. Was she afraid of what she might see? Why? What did the others see that made their faces change like that?

Then a rude laughter cut through the tension and Caska's gaze flickered over the familiar faces to land on Corkus'.

The former bandit sneered at her and languidly put his hands behind his head.

"Maybe it's something you didn't say," he drawled, his tone far more scornful than she would accept from anyone, least of all that annoying pushover of a soldier... But something had happened to the general atmosphere - it frightened Caska in a way she couldn't explain. The fire had grown fainter, the night darker, the faces harder. She felt colder. She tried to seek comfort in the warm embrace, but even that was becoming slacker – and that frightened her more than anything else: Without it, she knew that she would be completely at the mercy of the unforgiving coldness again. It was waiting for her, she could feel it - Somewhere just beyond the light of the campfire, waiting for a chance to swoop in and reclaim her, and this time for good. He couldn't be letting her go, not after he had saved her from the terrible cold before. He couldn't be.

She turned to Corkus, meaning to use the strong, demanding voice she used to give orders, but it came out as only a weak whisper:

"What do you mean?"

Corkus snorted haughtily.

"I don't know. How about... his _name? _For fuck's sake, you don't even know who he _is!_"

She opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came forth.

I do know him, she wanted to say. Of course I do! I know him as well as any of you! His name is...

His name is...

His... name...

Horrified, Caska felt the arms begin to pull away from her midsection. She wanted to reach for them, hold on to them, but she was frozen in place.

Don't go! her mind screamed. Give me a minute! Just a minute to think! I know who you are! I know! Don't leave me here in the cold!

As if called by her unspoken cry, the coldness came sweeping in over the formerly festive scene like an evil whisper, malignantly smothering all remnants of happiness and celebration. The fire instantly faded into small, strange, pale blue flames and the faces around her became ghostly and distorted in the chilly light.

Who? She tried to ask them, but an icy touch of air had already sealed her lips with a thin layer of frost. Who came for me?

She desperately searched the spectral faces around her for the answer. Someone was missing, someone she knew well.

Who came for me?

Not Griffith, he was right there, staring coldly, expectantly at her with sharp raptor eyes. But would he really have come for her? She kept searching, her desperation mounting. Not Guts, he was watching her with sternly furrowed eyebrows – that infuriating _look_ he had that always made her feel so aggravated, like he couldn't believe that she actually cared about anything.

But who's missing? Who?

Not Pippin, who was frowning as though he was disappointed with her.

Who?

Not Rickert, watching her with sad disbelief written all over his young face. Not Corkus, who was still laughing almost demonically at her. Not Paolo or Mason or Bradley or any of the other sub-commanders she knew and worked with.

Who came for me?

The faces all started to blend together, floating around and fading into each other, switching places. She felt like she couldn't breathe, as if the cold slowly seeping back into her, making all the little hairs on her body stand on end, was already paralysing her. Desperation was turning into unadulterated panic, and Corkus' face, distorted and unnaturally huge floated around, mocking her with many different voices.

"What's his name? Who is he? You don't know, do you? He saved your life, and you can't even remember who he is! You don't know who he is!"

She shivered, realising that she was naked now – completely uncovered in the face of the relentless, creeping cold. She tried to cover herself with her hands, but it didn't help any. She wanted to turn away from the ghostly visage that tormented her and look behind her, more than anything to look at the face of the man who was slowly drifting away from her, the man who had saved her before. She could still feel the warmth he was radiating, the only warmth there was in this place, but it was fading away as the distance between them grew. He was not too far away yet. If she could only turn around she would be able to grab him and hold on to him and revel in that life-giving warmth again.

And if she could only see his face, she was sure she would immediately remember who he was.

She squeezed her eyes shut to drive away the image of the mocking face, whose features had now taken a disturbing likeness to Griffith's, and put all her willpower into turning around. At first, her body was completely frozen in place and the despair made bile rise in her throat - but then, oh so slowly, she felt herself begin to move.

His warmth was almost gone, and she imagined feeling her toes and fingers slowly begin turning into ice – she could almost hear them creak. With a monumental effort that lured an unarticulated but surprisingly weak cry from her throat, she flipped over onto her other side (was she lying down now? Since when?), and almost immediately felt his warm body against her own, his arms back around her. Protective. Comforting. Forgiving. She pressed herself against him and almost wept with relief, shivering as the cold was once again expelled from her body. He was so warm, so wonderfully, unbelievably warm in this cold, cold place that she imagined for a moment a fire burning inside of him. One that would never, ever grow cold and blue, or fade to ashes.

She really wanted to see his face now, but she couldn't believe how hard it was to open her eyes – her eyelids felt like they were weighed down with lead. Finally she managed it, after a long and arduous struggle, but as her eyes sluggishly dragged themselves open and she sought his face, all she could see was bright, white light that stung her eyes and made them water.

Who are you?

She sobbed, worn out and overwhelmed by hopelessness.

Why can't I see you?

Then, as the last vestiges of dream faded into awareness, she heard a very familiar voice whispersoftly :

"Caska…"

* * *

GASP! What will happen now? ...You'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out! Oh, and in case anybody missed it, this chapter was Caska's dream as she slowly wakes up again. That's why it seems so confused and abstract.

Reviewer Responses:

Arashi: Yeah, insight into others does not always mean insight into yourself. Griff is not a sociopath, that's for sure. Hope you liked this chapter too!  
Bengali: Hope it didn't take too long, and hope you like. We only wish to entertain. :)  
RisuMusume: So how's about this? Double update! HaP AND this one! Ooh, I feel so prolific right now...  
Pissy Abyssinian: Yes... I don't think you can be such a people-person as Judeau is, and hang around Griffith as much as he does, without noticing SOMETHING - even if it only is a vague hunch. And thank you! He's a difficult character to write.  
Drachen: So glad you approve (griiin). Yup, this story is all about getting Le Fluff out of my system - as I'm sure you will notice. Thanks for the comment!


	4. Chapter 4

Yes, I know it took a long time. But he who waits for something good, eh? I know, I know.

I don't own any of this. Well, maybe the barn, but it's not much and it's not for sale, anyway.

* * *

Part Four

Caska blinked, an overwhelming sensation of disorientation permeating her mind. The light was very bright and very painful. She frowned in disconcerted confusion and pressed herself closer against the safety and warmth of the body next to her - It was the one impression that felt certain and even vaguely familiar.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to put her scattered mind back together again. She knew she had been dreaming, but couldn't remember anything really concrete about the dream itself - and it was somewhat difficult to try to sort out what had actually happened to her in the sleep-muddled jumble of memories and unfamiliar impressions.

She frowned deeper and took another hefty breath of cold air, forcing her eyes to open a crack and let that painfully piercing light in again. Though she was prepared for it, the renewed shock made her grimace and groan, and the warm body next to her stirred slightly.

As the confusion slowly begun leaving her mind - in a manner that most felt like syrup sliding off of a spoon - she realised with an equally slow and distant sense of shock that what she was so tightly snuggled up against was not just a warm, comfortably anonymous body. It was a man's body. A man's naked body. She was, in fact, laying in a man's arms, cuddled up to him in a very intimate fashion... her shock and confusion was so great that she didn't even think about pulling away.

What _did_ I do yesterday? The thought formed and was gone almost before she understood it herself.

Blinking slowly in apprehensive surprise, Caska finally began to see something more through the white haze of light. Trying for the moment to push aside the confusion about her... bedmate, Caska begun attempting to analyse the rest of her situation, hoping to glean some kind of hint or clue of any kind. Her head was in a somewhat uncomfortable position - she was laying on her side with both arms around the man and the side of her face propped up against his neck, so that his chin rested on the top of her head - but she didn't dare to move for fear of disturbing the current status quo and maybe finding out that things were even more confusing than they first appeared.

Also, it was really, really cold outside of the thick blanket that covered them - Staying put at least meant that she remained warm.

The familiar sound of a decidedly equine snort helped to further dissipate her disorientation. She was laying on hay, warm and dry. The ceiling she was looking at seemed remarkably far away and appeared, like the piece of wall that she could see, to be in an appalling state of disrepair. How in the world could she have ended up in a place (and a position) like this?

Then the unseen horse snorted again, and suddenly everything fell into place. That wasn't her horse, her horse was dead. She had ended his suffering somewhere out there in the snow. Her hip and shoulder still hurt slightly from where she had hit the ground in that one terrifying instant when everything had started to go wrong.

How she had cursed herself. Why had she had to be in such a hurry? Why hadn't she just stuck to the road? In trying to get back to Griffith as quickly as possible, she had instead managed to cause him further disappointment. Oh, how angry she had been.

But not even that anger had been enough to protect her from the freezing wind and the wet flurry, and she had lost her directions in the storm... Then the unbelievable exhaustion, the loneliness and despair... and finally, she must have fainted in the snow. And now it was day again - the brightness spoke of somewhere around noon, even - and she was laying on a provisional bed in what she was fairly certain had to be an old, abandoned barn or some such building, in the company of a man and a horse. The situation wasn't so confusing after all.

Smiling in relief, Caska finally lifted her head and took a good look at her rescuer. His very familiar, freckled face, even more youthful than usual in sleep, made her smile widen in grateful recognition.

Judeau, she thought - not entirely sure of why that felt so much like some kind of necessary resolution.

Of course it's you. I'm so glad.

She let out a small, involuntary sigh of relief, and Judeau stirred in response - pulling her body closer to his own. The sensation of skin pressing against skin suddenly made Caska acutely aware of her own complete nakedness, and _the not-quite-as-unfamiliar-as-she-would-have-preferred hardness that she felt against her stomach _didn't exactly help. With a blush that was as much shock as embarrassment, she quickly and firmly pushed him away.

"Hey, who do you think I am, anyway?"

He snorted, gasped and looked up at her with the complete and utter bewilderment of the too brusquely awakened, and grunted something to the same effect:

"Huh? Wha? Ca- Caska?"

Before he could get a chance to be more coherent, she quickly snatched up the blanket and wrapped it tightly around herself (noting out of the corner of her eye that he was, in fact, still wearing hosen, but determinedly fixed her glare on his _face_ nonetheless). Being so suddenly exposed to the cold air, Judeau gasped and tugged wanly at the nearest corner of warm cloth.

"H-hey... what's the... give that back..."

Her indignation was almost immediately tempered by regret as she saw how honestly confused he appeared - that was no way to wake the man who had most likely just saved your life - but while she was still debating whether to give him some blanket or not, she noticed something that made her temper flare right back up again.

"Oh my god! Look at you - you're _blushing!_ Were you even sleeping?"

Resigning to his blanketless situation with a small sigh, Judeau slowly sat up and wrapped his arms around himself, hunching his shoulders and squinting at Caska with obvious difficulty.

"What are you talking about?" he mumbled hoarsely, shivering and blinking like a lost puppy. Caska swung back towards regretful again - she had to admit that not even Judeau was a good enough actor to put up such a flawless façade. But still, he _was_ blushing. Rather obviously so, even.

"Don't pretend you don't know," she muttered, letting her dark eyes drill into his. "I… I felt it."

He blinked again. "Felt what?"

Her own cheeks got warmer as she indicated with her head – pointedly looking the other way. "_It._ When you hugged me. I felt it."

For a few moments, the silence was both awkward and bewildered, and then Judeau's blush suddenly deepened as he looked away with a very unsteady smile. "Ah…" He reached for his discarded clothes and busied himself with putting them back on as he continued:

"I'm… I'm really sorry about that, Caska, but, um, it's not exactly something I can help." He coughed awkwardly. "Haven't you been with the Hawks long enough to know that… well, er… that sort of tends to happen to a guy in the morning?"

She blushed, herself. "Oh…" She _had_ actually noticed that. Not that she usually walked around inspecting her men's crotches every morning, but after a few years with mercenaries who more and more saw her as 'one of the guys' rather than a woman, a few embarrassing incidents couldn't be helped.

"I… I guess."

He threw a quick, apologetic smile at her, his cheeks still tinted in red. "But I _am_ sorry, nonetheless. My intention was to help you, not to make you uncomfortable in any way."

"Uh… yeah. Um." Caska looked down, feeling only slightly ashamed of herself. Had it been anyone else but Judeau, she wouldn't have accepted that excuse so easily, but it _was_ him and the blond scout commander had never once treated her with anything but respect. In fact, was there anyone among the Hawks that she could honestly call a gentleman – at least as far as she herself was concerned – it would be him.

"It's okay..." She didn't know what else to say. She kind of felt that she should apologise, too, but in all honesty she was still upset and regardless of whether it was on purpose or not, it was _not_ 'okay' for a guy to press his... _thing_ against a girl who hadn't asked for it. And that blush still annoyed her. It hadn't been _that_ warm under the blanket, and she _was_ naked... Had he been dreaming, perhaps? That notion also made her feel uncomfortable - like she'd been used against her will.

Still, he _had_ saved her life...

In the end, she more or less had to resolve to remain ambiguous, and watched him get dressed with an uncertain little frown on her face. He had his back turned and didn't look back at her until he was done, and when he did his cheeks _still_ looked suspiciously rosy. But that could well be embarrassment by now. Or something. He smiled and she looked away, firmly keeping her frown in place.

"I really am sorry about all of this," he said, sounding sincere. "But I must say you're taking this a lot better than I thought you would. You haven't even slapped me."

"I'm thinking about it," she curtly replied. "But only because of... _that._ Why else would I slap you?"

He smiled and shrugged and walked over to where her clothes lay spread out on the ground and felt them carefully.

"I guess I was afraid that you weren't going to take well to my having undressed you... But I'll tell you now that I had no other choice. You were a breath away from death's door... Ah, these are dry enough. Great."

He tossed her her long underwear and undershirt, and she put them on while staying under the blanket - difficult though it was - and almost whimpered at how terribly cold they were at first.

Those of her clothes deemed fit to be worn again she donned in silence, as much because of her own uncertainty as to keep him on his toes a little. But in the end she had to concede that she was being childish, and pulled herself together with a small, slightly annoyed puff of breath.

"I know that you had to do that, Judeau. I am not stupid. You saved my life - and you expect me to slap you for it?" She huffed and reached for her coat that Judeau was currently inspecting. "I am insulted. Really, what do you _think_ of me, anyway?"

He pulled the coat out of her reach. "No, no, not this one. It's still a bit too wet on the inside. And you are absolutely right, and I'm sorry again. It's just that... er... no, never mind."

She folded her arms across her chest and gave him another annoyed glare. "No, please, what were you going to say?"

He folded her coat and stuffed it into a saddle-bag with a strained little sigh.

"Listen, can we just forget about that? We should really be getting back..."

"I am not riding all the way back to camp without a coat or a thick shirt. It's still very cold, you know. And I'm really dying to hear what you were thinking, just now, especially since you're being so reluctant to tell me. So spill it."

He remained hunched over the saddlebag for a moment and sighed again.

"Okay. Alright. I don't want to make a huge issue out of it, so, fine. It's just that I've noticed how you don't really care for being reminded that you are a woman, sometimes. And believe me," he quickly added, "I can understand you. After all the prejudice you've had to overcome - still have to overcome... Sometimes, you do hit first and think later, you know, but who can blame you? I sure don't. That's all."

Caska seethed, but most of all because she was really surprised. She had to recognise that what he was saying made a lot of sense, but if it was true then it was something she hadn't even noticed herself, and that, as well as the feeling that he had really gotten under her skin made her almost unreasonably angry. But while she struggled with herself about whether or not to act on this emotion, Judeau got up and walked over to the discarded blanket, picked it up and handed it to her with an apologetic smile.

"Wrap this around yourself and you should be just fine. We have to get back as soon as possible - I'm sure they're already looking for us."

She sent him one of her trademark glares-of-death and snatched the blanket away from him. That little smile had indicated that he understood how she was feeling now too, and even why, and she really didn't appreciate having him inside her head like that.

"Fine, saddle the damn horse! I have a very important message to Griffith, anyway." She didn't really know why she said that, but it was not until after the words had left her mouth that she realised it was true. "We have to hurry!" She added, barely noticing how different her voice had suddenly become. Judeau, for some reason, hesitated for a very brief moment before his face suddenly lit up with his normal, good-natured smile.

"That's the Caska I know. Give me just a few seconds and we will be on our way!"

But it didn't just take a few seconds. Caska, finally having had her priorities straightened out, was already getting frustrated at how slowly Judeau worked at saddling the horse, when he stopped to lean against its chestnut flank for a moment.

"Oh, for pity's sake," she hissed, threw off the blanket and stomped over to him, resolutely fastening the girth herself. "What's wrong with you? It's almost like you're stalling us on purpose!"

He smiled again. "I'm so sorry, Caska. I'm a little tired, that's all. I don't think I rested enough."

The words "So what _did_ you do, then?" rested on the tip of her tongue, but she held them in. He did look a bit tired, though, and slightly flushed, as if lifting the saddle had been a strenuous task. She settled for giving him an angry look and retrieved the blanket with an impatient huff.

As they rode, him sitting right behind her and holding the reins, she noticed that he was unusually quiet. Not that Judeau couldn't be quiet for long periods of time, but this silence was a bit too uncomfortable to be of the usual kind. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and tried to smother the faint sting of embarrassment that insistently smouldered in her chest.

It wasn't so much that he had seen her naked - even though that was a part of it - or that he thought he could see right through her like that. What she was really feeling embarrassed about was the way she had treated him. She did, after all, owe him her life and the more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed that any of what he had done or said had been intended to provoke her, and yet she had treated everything like a provocation. Maybe he was right, maybe she did hit first and think later, and however useful that could be when dealing with idiots and bigots, maybe it wasn't the best way to treat a friend.

She heaved a small sigh and leaned back against him, as much as her pride allowed. It felt kind of good to have him there: She could almost imagine feeling his warmth through all the heavy cloth, and that made her feel inexplicably calm and safe. But he didn't give any indication that he had noticed her subtle attempt at an unspoken apology, and Caska frowned to herself. Was she actually going to have to say it? Well, maybe he deserved it...

"Oh, look," He said suddenly. Caska snapped out of her introspective reverie and looked up to see dark figures against the white field - too far away to recognise any one individual except for the huge shape of Pippin - who were riding towards them and waving to attract their attention.

"I told you..." Judeau murmured breathlessly - and Caska noticed that for some reason he had begun breathing very heavily. "...They would be... looking for us..." The last word ended in a strange little sigh and he slumped heavily against her, his hands falling away from the horse's reins. Startled, Caska turned in the saddle to try to face him, but she pulled him with her and it was not until it was far too late that she realised that he was falling off the horse. She reached out but her fingers closed around nothing and Judeau's limp body hit the ground with a snow-muffled thud.

* * *

Eh... I know this seems a bit strange, coming from me, but I actually _don't_ like hurting Judeau. This is a plot point. And to those who might have been hoping for romance in this chapter: I'm sorry (grin). I _do_ like torturing my readers, though, so I'm going to take my time to develop this story.

Reviewer Responses:

BengalCat: Good that confusion didn't turn you away! Thank you for bearing with me.  
Reiya Inc.:A person of my own heart.I do call this fiction an AU, so yes, I will veer from the series. Thank you very much for reading and liking! Please stay tuned...


	5. Chapter 5

Yes, I know. About damn time. Well, at least I haven't abandoned this story! I'm not sure when part six will be ready, but y'all know I'm working on it. Enough talking, on with the fic:

* * *

Part Five

"Judeau! What happened!"

The blanket had proven such a hinder to her movements when Caska had tried to turn and dismount the horse that she had discarded it entirely. She fell to her knees beside Judeau's unmoving form and turned him over carefully. There was no visible injury, but he was still unconscious.

"Hey! What's going on!" The Hawks' search team finally caught up with them, and Corkus jumped off his horse with a bewildered frown on his face. "Have you guys been attacked?"

"No," Caska looked up and shook her head, every bit as confused. "Suddenly he just... collapsed."

The hook-nosed mercenary grunted and thoughtfully narrowed his eyes at the unmoving scout. Then he knelt down next to Caska, took off his gloves and placed one hand on Judeau's forehead.

"Huh," he muttered under his breath, almost too quiet for Caska to hear it over the noise from the other six mercenaries, all - but Pippin - loudly demanding to know what was happening. "I thought he looked a little strange..."

Corkus then stood and addressed the rest of the search party:

"It's just a fever. Let's gather'em up and head back. Pippin, take the blonde."

Pippin nodded wordlessly and stooped to pick Judeau up.

"A-a fever?" Caska stuttered, a bit too taken aback to think about maintaining her image right now. "But... but..."

"Yeah, a fever," Corkus replied, giving her one of his haughty snorts. "Anyone with the slightest bit of know-how could tell from the flush on his face, if they just cared to look."

She sent him a sharp glare that effectively shut him up and was just about to remind him of how to properly address a superior officer, when she heard Judeau's weak voice behind her:

"Caska? I think you may have put on some weight…"

She snapped around to find Judeau resting securely in Pippin's strong arms, gazing up at the giant with a small smile on his face.

"I'm Pippin," Pippin gravely replied, and Judeau chuckled.

"I know, man, I'm just joking. So... could you tell me what exactly happened, just now?"

"You fainted."

"Ah." The scout closed his eyes again and heaved a small sigh. "I was afraid of that."

Caska gasped in indignation. "You _knew?_ You knew you were ill, and you didn't say anything?"

I've been such an idiot, she thought. He hadn't been blushing because of anything perverted - how could she even have thought that? This was _Judeau,_ for god's sake... and she had treated him incredibly unfairly. He had to have gotten this sick because he had gone out in that blizzard from hell in the middle of the night in order to try to save her life – which he had done. She owed him so much right now, and what had she done? Suspected him of ulterior motives and argued with him.

A sudden surge of guilt poured in over her, and she tried her best to keep it from showing too much - hoping that somehow her dark skin would disguise the warm flush on her face. He could have told her he wasn't feeling well! Stupid, bone-headed man! But no, of course not, he had to try to be macho and pretend like it was nothing even though he was at the brink of fainting.

But, knowing Judeau, it was probably because he had been trying not to worry her.

Caska fought against the impulse to hide her face in her hands and wanted nothing so much as to just fall right through the earth. But Judeau turned his face to her and smiled warmly.

"I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? _You're_ sorry...!" She interrupted herself before she risked saying something stupid. She knew she was blushing and scowled in an attempt to make it look like she was just angry - There was no reason to let the others know what an ass she had been. "You should have told me! I could have helped you - Or at least been prepared to catch you! Why would you push yourself so far, you stupid idiot?"

She almost bit her tongue when she realised that she had insulted him again, but sternly crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, quietly adding that one to the list of things she already owed him. Judeau sighed and turned away again with a slight frown.

"Could we possibly have this discussion at some later time, Caska? I'm really tired."

She let out a long breath of worry through her nose and tried to make it sound like an impatient, authoritative sigh.

"Sure."

o

It took them a long time to get back to the castle, as the heavy snowstorm had made the roads almost impassable to the horses and they constantly had to backtrack and find other paths. If Judeau hadn't been pretty much out of commission, Caska was sure that he could have cut the travelling time by half. But he was, and the worry for his condition made the journey seem twice as long to her mind. She had borrowed a jacket from one of the men and rode Judeau's horse right behind Pippin's, so that she could keep a close eye on the blond ponytail without being too obvious about it.

Not that she could actually do anything if something was to happen, but she felt so bad about herself and her behaviour that she didn't know what else to do.

When they finally arrived, the sun was already setting, and the clouds hovering at the horizon bore the promise of even more snow. Caska made sure that Judeau would be brought immediately to the medical barracks, then hurried to Griffith with the message she had brought from Windham.

She found the Commander where she had left him, in his room, bent over a map in thoughtful contemplation. He looked up when she stepped into the room and smiled a brilliant smile that made her head spin and her cheeks grow warmer.

"Ah, Caska. I am very glad to see you safe."

She found herself smiling back at him and held out the message tube.

"I am very glad to be back, Griffith. Here is your reply from Windham."

"Thank you." He took the tube from her, broke the seal and pulled out the rolled-up parchment inside. "And you are well, I hope? None the worse for wear?"

"Y-yes, I am alright," Caska stammered, blushing partly because of his concern for her, partly of embarrassment for not being able to hide her feelings when he showed concern for her, like that. It made her feel silly and weak. "Judeau really saved me..." Come that far, she hesitated. She did want to give the scout commander the recognition he deserved for saving her life, yet at the same time it was very difficult to admit to Griffith that she wouldn't have made it on her own - His respect was so important to her, and she didn't want him to refrain from entrusting her with other important tasks in the future. It was bad enough as it was, with the way this return message had been delayed due to her foolhardiness. "...When we got caught in the storm," she finished lamely, feeling a renewed surge of guilt on Judeau's behalf.

"Really?" Griffith said, his attention directed at the letter from Windham. "Then I shall have to thank him later."

Yeah, Casca thought with a sting of shame. Me too.

"Well... I should go and check in on him, I suppose," she said half to herself, making ready to leave Griffith to read his message in peace, but the white-haired man looked up and gave her a quizzical look.

"Check in on him? Why?"

"Um... Well... It seems he caught a fever. He's with the medics right now."

"Oh. How unfortunate."

Griffith rolled up his letter again, placed it on the table and strolled over to the window.

"But good timing, though," he added, heaving a small, contemplative sigh. "I don't think we can accommodate the King's wish, this time."

"What?" Caska took an involuntary step forward. Griffith, having heard the worried concern in her voice, turned around and gave her a soothingly radiant smile.

"Well, it seems that since it has been established that all Tudor troops have left this area, the King wants to relocate our winter camp to another place where we might be of more use. But-" He made a vague gesture at the white world outside the window. "-There is just no way we could move the entire army anywhere after last night's snowfall. We are stuck here, for now. For a few months, in a worst-case scenario. Well, at least it gives our scout commander and wounded some time to rest and recover." He smiled again and resolutely strode back to his desk. "We will move as soon as the weather allows. I'm sure the King will understand."

"Yeah." Caska couldn't help a small smile of relief to mirror Griffith's. "I'm sure. I'll see to it that everyone knows what's going on."

She bowed and Griffith gave her a dismissive nod.

"Thank you, Caska."

o

Upon entering the barracks reserved as their medical quarters, it took Caska a little while to track someone down who could tell her where to find Judeau. The doctor had her wait until he was finished with one of the men who had been wounded in their latest battle with an unexpectedly strong army of bandits, a little more than a week ago, before he turned and fixed her with a weary look.

"Yes, I took care of the scout commander when he came in. I can show you to his room if you wish."

"Yes, thank you."

As the doctor turned and led the way, Caska quietly gave voice to some of her concern. "How... serious is it?"

The doctor stopped beside a door in the compartment reserved for officers and frowned at the floor in front of it for a moment. Caska's heart slowly began creeping up into her throat as all her guilt and worry came flooding back at the seriousness of the doctor's face. When he finally spoke, it felt like she stopped breathing for a second.

"It's bad," he told her, still frowning thoughtfully at the floor. "It's just beginning, and I'm fairly sure it will get a lot worse. I've seen this in Windham and I know how it works. To be perfectly honest with you, I can't guarantee that he will survive."

Judeau was _dying?_ That couldn't be right. She must have misheard. Caska's throat felt so tight that it was painful, but she managed to force it to work anyway.

"Wha-what?"

The doctor spread his arms in a gesture of defeat and frustration and finally looked up, the dark bags beneath his eyes more obvious now than before.

"In order to make _sure_ that he makes it out all right, I would have to keep him under constant surveillance, and I just don't have that time. I still have a lot of soldiers to look after from that latest battle, three of which are in very real danger of developing gangrene, the cold isn't making anything easier, and to top it all off your friend in there is not the only one coming down with disease in this weather - and I can tell you right now that the other doctors are just as busy as I am. I'm sorry, but we have no choice. He may survive even without being carefully monitored, but we'll just have to leave that in God's hands."

The realisation struck Caska like a blow to the head. They were holed up here in the castle for the foreseeable future, so her duties would be so minimal that she was practically on leave. It was the perfect opportunity to appease this burning guilt and take the responsibility that her conscience demanded from her in order to pay Judeau back for saving her life and risking his own. She lit up at the thought and grabbed the doctor's arm without really thinking about it.

"I'll do it," she said to his tired, surprised face, without any hesitation. "I'll take care of him."

* * *

**Reviewer Responses:**

**Kurome Shiretsu:** What part Guts will play in this story is not entirely clear yet. It depends a little on how it develops. I hope you don't mind that this fic centers mostly on Judeau and Caska - I can't promise that Guts will play any significant part. But hey, if you need your Guts-fix, there's always the manga! (Yes, both the name and the noun...)  
**Reiya Inc.:** I'm sorry. I really am. I swear I didn't MEAN to leave that cliff hanging there for so long... well, you know how I mean. It's kind of good to know that you consider it torture, though...- not that I'm evil, butonly that I am totally receptive to flattery.  
**Rowna Seria:** Aaaand... presto! I hope you're still with me, and still enjoying.  
**Kyree:** Yes, I hope indeed that you understand. Sorry for dragging the suspense out a bit futher, I guess...?  
**Eclipse218:** YAY! Judeau fans unite! I'm so glad that I can lure you all out of the woodworks like this... and I totally agree with you. Judeau is sadly underrepresented in fanworks, as far as I'm concerned.  
**aka Arashi:** Yeah, I'm almost starting to suspect myself of deriving some kind of perverse pleasure from incapacitating him, by now... Considering it seems to keep happening! Ah well... as long as it makes a decent story... Oh, and thank you again for all your enthusiastic reviews! Makes me feel all good about myself.


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